


The Return of Shane Vol 1: (Re-Edited)

by TheWalkingDeadNegative



Series: The Walking Dead: Negative [1]
Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead: Negative
Genre: Alpha Shane, Alternate Universe - The Walking Dead Fusion, Cannon, Cheating Lori, Dimension Cannon, Episode: s11e07 Better Angels, Gen, Inspired by The Walking Dead, Multi, Other, Past Rick Grimes/Shane Walsh, Shane Lives, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:30:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5035669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWalkingDeadNegative/pseuds/TheWalkingDeadNegative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Shane makes it to Alexandria he's got to survive this....</p><p>Shane was the source of all Rick's problems, interestingly enough Shane felt the same way about Rick. The hostility of the once brothers burned so hot that it led Rick to put a blade in Shane's chest. But he lived, though separated from Rick and the group, Shane is still haunted by the events but finds new allies that may take him to levels that Rick could only dream about. </p><p>This Fanfic is apart of a Trilogy (The Return of Shane, The Void, and Lori), it sets the stage for the bigger project: "The Walking Dead: -6" Shane and Rick will finally meet again in Alexandria. Stay tuned for updates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Timeline Explained....

**  
The Walking Dead: Negative, Timeline Explanation:** The purpose of this timeline is to help readers understand where AMC's The Walking Dead and the The Walking Dead: Negative's timeline's intersect. It is designed to guide new readers who may or may not have already read The Return of Shane: Vol 1-3.It is encouraged that everyone read The Return of Shane: Vol especially since new characters were added during that series. Contrary to popular belief, time has not really moved quickly in The Walking Dead, mainly because as of  **Season 6** , Judith still can't walk or talk. At most, only two years has passed since Lori's death.

** 2010 **

\--- Events of The Walking Dead, Season  **1.**

| - Rick's group escapes the CDC.

|- Events of The Walking Dead, Season  **2.**

| - Rick's group meet Hershel and the  **Greene Family.**

|

|

| - Episode -  **Better Angels**  (Shane and Rick face off).

| - Events of  **Return Of Shane Vol**   **1** (Shane survives). **< << You are HERE** **.**

| --- Shane meets  **Phillip** and **Austin Marco.**

| --- Events of  **The Walking Dead** , Season  **2, Finale**  .

| - Events of  **Return Of Shane Vol 2** (Shane returns to the Farm).

|--- Events of  **The Walking Dead** , Season  **3.**

|---  **Lori** gives birth to  **Judith** and dies **.**

|--- Events of  **Return Of Shane Vol**   **3.**

| - Rick's group repel  **The Governor**  from the prison.

 **2011**  

| - Shane's Group meets the  **Rockwell Family**  at K-Mart.

| --- Events of  **The Walking Dead** , Season  **4.**

| - The Prison is overrun, Rick's group divides.

| - Rick's group and Abraham's group make it to  **Terminus**.

** 2012 **

\--- Events of The Walking Dead, Season  **5.**

| - Nancy Rockwell becomes pregnant by Shane. Stu and Jacob are killed.

| - Rick's group meets Aaron.

| - Rick's group arrives at Alexandria.

| - Rick kills Pete and is reunites with Morgan.

|- Austin and Nancy are both killed, Phillip is now the de facto leader.

| - Shane is shot by Saviors.

| - Events of The Walking Dead, Season  **-6** / Events of The Walking Dead, Season  **6**

 


	2. "Worst Demons"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane survives and this is why...

#Shane

Part 1

“Worst Demons”

Every cell in Rick's body implored Shane to turn around, to end this madness. But he knew that wasn't Shane's style—there was no "back down" in Shane.

Besides, both men had come too far at this point to turn away now. They were alone on the outskirts of the farm, hidden by shadows that would conceal this dark deed.

Shane's eyes shot daggers before he aimed his pistol."Raise your gun," he spat at Rick, anger coating each syllable.

 _This is how it ends, huh, friend?_ Rick thought to himself."You'regonna have to kill an unarmed man," he warned Shane.

Rick was still playing to the last strand of humanity he knew was left in Shane. He could not accept that Shane would betray their friendship to this degree. Even if it was a delusion, Rick endorsed the idea that under all the envy and hate, his brother was still there.

"Nothing has happened here yet; we could walk back to the farm, together." Rick was all but begging, but it wasn't his life he was begging for. He wanted Shane to wake up from this psychotic break. He wanted to put all the bullshit behind them. He wanted his best friend back.

"Back to Lori, back to Carl. Put this all behind us," he said, extending his gun to Shane.

Shane kept his weapon aimed at Rick, his finger tight on the trigger. He kept his dark eyes on Rick's baby blues as his fingertips touched the handle of Rick's revolver. Many thoughts darted across Shane's mind, the first one reluctance.

Even though Rick was giving him his gun, he knew they couldn't just walk back to the farm. That was such a "Rick" solution, wasn't it? Shane rejected Rick's approach to this new world. He was going to get them all killed; Shane was sure of it.

But he couldn't just shoot Rick in cold blood, he’d learned that from Dale. Shane knew he would have to shed blood. He just hadn’t anticipated shedding so much.

 _Why didn't he just fucking shoot me?The chicken shit!_ Shane thought. _Just shoot me._

Then Shane felt icy steel slice through his ribcage, entering his left lung. His right hand tightened, discharging his weapon into the air. His breath escaped from his body and his knees began to buckle almost instantly.

Shane had never thought that Rick would take him out this close. As the blade entered him, Shanewas forced against Rick in a faint embrace. A deadly embrace.

 _God damn you for making me do this, Shane._ Rick felt the heat of Shane's skin next to his face as his friend gasped for air. He felt him dying in his arms. _How did we get here?_

"This was you! Not me! You did this to us!" Rick shouted as he pulled the blade from his friend’s chest.

Blood flooded Shane's lung, seeming to choke the life out of the thirty-five-year-old man. The darkness of Shane's eyes remained locked on Rick. _You did it, Rick_ ,Shanewanted to say, but the words couldn’t swim through the thick blood pooling in his throat. He began to convulse, then quickly passed out from the blood loss.

Moments went by as Rick sat with what he believedto be Shane's corpse, waiting for the inevitable. He knew that everyone rises—any person, no matter how they die, comes back. He should finish this ordeal right this second. Shane's form was lying on the wet grass, blood coating his face. Rick knew what he had to do, but he couldn't bring himself to stab his friend a second time. _I could barely do it once_ , he thought. When he changes, I'll end it.

Moments later, Rick caught a glimpse of Carl on his left side. Quickly, through his shallow tears, Carl aimed his gun. Noticing his son's fear and confusion at the sight of Shane's lifeless body, Rick turned to the boy and attempted to calm him.

In that moment, Shane regained consciousness.His eyes fluttered with life andhis ears filled with Rick's voice, pleading and crying. _Who ya praying to, Rick_ , Shane thought. _I hope it isn’tthe asshole who told you stabbing me would be enough to kill me_. Shane's body was shocked by the blood loss, but adrenaline forced him to life. If Rick wanted to sneak people like a yellow coward mongrel, he was going to have to work for his bone.

Shane had enough strength to rise. He was unsteady on his feet and still somewhat strangled by the blood deposited in his lungs as he wobbled towards Rick.

"It's not what it seems," Rick pleaded, as Carl fired at Shane.

Rick saw the bullet hit Shane in the head, saw him fall to the ground.Rick quieted; he had had his fill of horror for this night. In the morning, Rick, Daryl, and T-Dog would come to collect Shane's body and give him a proper burial. But that wouldn't be tonight.

Rick took his sons hand and leads him back to Hershel's farm. It was over, just what he wanted all along. He just wanted to lay with Lori and have her in his arms.

Carl would go on to say he saw Shane rise and had put him down. But what Rick didn’t know was that Carl would be wrong on both accounts. The truth was, he was just a boy with a bad shot. Also unknown to them as they walked away from Shane, there was a small army of walkers approaching the farm…

 

Shane thought he could feel something bouncing around in his skull. When would the ringing in his ears fucking cease?! Through it, he could hear the squeak of fingers sliding off his leather boots. The dew and mist was making it quite the challenge for the hungry walker to get a grip on his foot, andthe darkness of the night obscured Shane’s view of it as it chewed on his boot. Shane's brain was too scrambled to focus on the one walker, let alone the small herd of themthat were now descending upon the farm.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, mustering as much adrenaline as he could and kicking the rotting walker in the face. The force of the kick, coupled with the level of rot, sent the walker's head flying. Shane attempted to rise to his feet, but his knees failed him and he ended up back on the ground. Shane fell face first in the slick, grassy earth.He could see the shimmering steel of his pistol as the light of the moon highlighted the weapon.

"On… your… feet… sunshine." Shane winced as he grabbed the pistol. _Fight or die_ , he thought as two female walkers attempted to maul him. One walker's abdomen was almost completely open; he could see organs poking through thin, parallel scratches across it's stomach. The organs were wet and coagulated; she had most likely died within the last 24 hours.

Shane smashed the walker in the face with his pistol and punched out the other. His second thought was to fire his weapon, but he stopped himself.

 _They'll hear me._ Shane wasn't just thinking about the walkers. He began to stumble away, but then stopped himself. He noticed he still had a large hunting knife on his waist. He grabbed the blade and with it he ended the two walkers.

He then began to march towards the barn; he had unfinished business with Rick. Shane had no idea how much blood he had lost, but the adrenaline was fooling him into believing he was Superman. He fantasized about showing up to the barn like Jack Nicholson in _The Shining_. He was going to shoot Rick right in the face.

But then he would probably have to shoot Dixon too. And hell, maybe even T-Dog. And that's when Shane realized he couldn't go back to the farm. Carl shot him, for Pete's sake. Even if Shane returned and murdered Rick, that wouldn't make Lori or Carl love him. As smart as Shane was, this fact took him quite a while to realize.

Shane looked into the darkness of the forest towards the farm. He knew he couldn't go back; Rick truly had won. _Now what?_ Shane turned around and looked out into the horizon, and that's when he saw them.

"Oh my god," he said, absorbing the magnitude of his situation.

What appeared to be a horde of thirty to fifty walkers was descending upon him. Taking a few steps backwards, Shane took in a deep breath. "Who did I piss off today?" he asked rhetorically. "Fucking Rick" he cursed.

Then he remembered something Rick had told him, about the time Rick was stuck at the mall with Glen and Andrea. He had covered himself with the viscera of the dead and was able to all but glide past the walkers without much resistance.

A golden light bulb sparked on in Shane’s concussion-riddled brain. Shane kneeled and covered himself with as many organs and bodily fluids as he could as the army of walkers marched towards the farm. Shane knew he was too weak to fight them all, but he couldn't run back to the farm, and he wasn't going to die.

His philosophy was, if both Rick and Carl had failed to get the job done,that must mean it wasn't his time. _I ain't dying tonight, shit brains._ Shane covered his face and his clothes with the rotted flesh, holding his breath as the stench choked the life out of him. _If these sons of bitches don't eat me, this smell will kill me._

Shane covered himself with as much as he could before realizing that the army of undead was only yards away from him. He quickly covered his body with the corpse of a walker. He was careful not to mix the walker's blood with his He held his breath, shut his eyes tightly, and waited for the dead to tear the flesh from his bones.

But they didn't.

They merely walked right by.

Shane was careful with his movements; he continued to play dead as the small herd marched to the farm. He listened to the earth and waited until he heard no more footsteps, thenhe pushed the corpse off and violently hacked up the clots of blood that had gelled in his throat.

When he rose, he noticed a few walkers straggling behind the herd. He slowed his movements to mimic theirs and carefully navigated between the dead. He didn't want to move too fast and get caught. Besides, between the concussion and the blood loss, he didn’t have to work too hard to impersonate the walkers’ movements to a tee.

Shane could hear the explosion of weapons firing from the direction of the farm. Pop! Pop! Pop! He didn't know who was firing, but he didn't care anymore.

They were on their own, just like him.


	3. Keeping your Friends Close...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While struggling to survive Rick and Carl's attack, Shane is in a need of a new group. And he finds one.

#Shane

Part 2

Keeping your Friends Close...

 

Shane didn't know how long he’d walked, but he could see the sunlight begin to creep up from the earth. Brilliant, orange light turned the dark night sky to a beautiful dawn. Shane found a road and started heading east; he knew that much, as he was walking towards the rising sun. He scanned the road, not only looking out for walkers but also for supplies.

He slowed his limping pace and rested on a tree. He needed to catch his breath; his tank was beyond empty and his body was beginning to fail him.  _I just need 2 minutes._  The large oak was only feet from the road, as soon as Shane caught a quick rest he would continue his walk.

"Uuhhhhhhhhh!" moaned awalker as it attempted to grab Shane.

Shane managed to side-step the walker, but then noticed that there was another walker, and another, and another…

He was surrounded.

It only takes a moment—and then they're everywhere.

"Fuck it," he declared,as he raised his weapon and began to fire.

 

Phillip was awoken by the sound of gunfire in the distance.He sat up sharply in the roomy, military-styled SUV. _What in the bloody-hell was that?_

Phillip noticed that Austin was still sleeping, his soft, plump lips pouted in his peaceful state. Phillip knew how acute Austin's hearing was; if there had been gunfire, Austin would have already had his assault rifle in hand. "I must have imagined it," Phillip said aloud.

Phillip had already had slight PTSD before the world had gone to shit. So he attributed the random gunfire to a nightmare—that was, of course, until he heard two more shots. "Ok, definitely didn't imagine  _that_."

Phillip quickly retrieved his utility belt, which held his two large bowie knives. He immediately darted out of the vehicle, towards the gunfire. The five foot nine man with dark, olive skin was quicker and more limber than most people.

He heard another shot and his head snapped to the right. He ran through the shrubby forest, leaping over rocks, roots, and other barriers, eventually discovering a bloodied Shane. Shane's back was against an oak as he fired, rather poorly, at the nine walkers lurking towards him.

Phillip sharply whistled, with great pitch and forte. A few of the walkers turned around, distracted by Phillip’s appearance.

Phillip removed his two dark gray Berettas from his waist holsters and fired shot after shot. Each bullet connected with awalker's brain with ease—witha surgeon's precision. A dark smile etched across Phillip’s full, pink lips. He enjoyed destroying these creatures at an almost orgasmic level.

Shane's eyes widened to see who had saved his life, but his vision was too obscured; he didn’t know it, but he was seconds from passing out again. He could barely see Phillip, his skin tanned, his long, jet-black hair pulled away from his face, and dressed in black, form-fitting paramilitary attire.

"What's your name?" Phillip asked,still holding up his guns.

"R-R-R-Rick…" Shane stuttered, barely able to aim his gun and using the oak that stood behind him for leverage as he wasunable to stand on his own.

"Your name is Rick?" Phillip asked as he slowly put away his weapons; he could see that Shane was no threat. "I'm Phillip. Where are your people? There's no way you're out here alone." Phillip noticed that Shane was absolutely covered in blood and what appeared to be dead flesh.

"Rick…" Shane said before finally losing consciousness.

"Great," said Phillip with pessimism and agitation. He walked over to Shane's body and quickly checked the pulse—he was still alive. Phillip noticed Shane was a little warmer than he should be, which was concerning.

Phillip immediately checked for bites, but it was hard. Shane was covered in viscera and blood, but much of it was from the walkers. Phillip took his small pocket knife and sliced open Shane's shirt, revealing his chest. There, right under his left nipple, was a small incision.

"His chest is sorta small, huh?" Austin asked. His voice was a deep, gravelly baritone.

"Holy shit!" exclaimed Phillip, startled by Austin's presence. "I could have shot you."

"No you couldn't," Austin countered. "You're too busy feeling this hobo up."

"I was not feeling him up—he's clearly hurt."

Austin stepped closer to get a better look. "He  _clearly_  stinks."

 

Shane was sure he was dead… that was, until he opened his eyes. This all felt like the worst nightmare ever, and Shane hoped he would awaken to a world in which Rick was waiting for him the squad car and the dead stayed dead. But that was wishful thinking.

He now found himself in a room—a rather nice room. Plush pillows held his head up, and his body was covered by a large, warm comforter. He looked around and saw the smiling faces of an elderly woman and her family in photos. Frame by frame, Shane inspected them from where he lay.  _This must be her place_ , he thought. He didn't recognize the woman, so that killed the idea that he had woken up at his grandmother's house.

It was Austin's rough and raspy voice that got Shane's attention. He could see the man that had saved him, but he wasn't alone. Two men stood before him, both in paramilitary garb. One stood about six foot two or six foot threeinches tall; he was a white male, roughly forty, with a military build. He had light hair that receded but was cut low to his scalp—a cut that vaguely resembled Shane's. His weapon was at his waist as he stood talking to the other man.

The second male had a  _unique_  look: Hispanic, possibly Black, about five foot ten, with a slightly smaller but effectively built frame. He looked to be in his mid to late twenties, and he appeared to be unarmed.

"Well, at least he isn't infected," Phillip stated.

"He is still a liability. He has some internal bleeding and for the record, he does have an infection. Just not the kind that will turnhim into a cannibal. It’s most likely cellulitis." Austin, a military physician by trade, assessed Shane's wounds and could see where his condition was headed. "Even though we plugged up the hemorrhaging, there’s still the infection. But hopefully Rick will be able to take care of himself soon."

"My name ain't Rick!" Shane finally said. "Don't fucking call me that asshole's name." Shane noticed that he was still hooked up to an IV and immediately started pulling at hoses.

"Hey, cunt," Phillip retorted, "we could have left you for rotter-bait. The least you can do is be pleasant. And not rip out your IV."

"Yeah, I ain't ask for your help neither," Shane countered. He continued to yank at the IV cords, his hands quivering at the task. His motor skills were lacking, but his persistence was still present.

"Let him go," Austin said in his deep, grim baritone. "Besides, those antibiotics could go towards you, Phillip. Instead of some fucking street rat."

" _Street rat_ ," Shane echoed. He couldn't help but chuckle,causing slime and mucus from his congested lungsto choke him. He coughed up the brown and green goo and spat it on the wood floor.

"No, that wasn't gross at all," Phillip chimed in, sarcastically.

"See, I told you, dear," Austin said. "Street rat."

" _Dear,_ " Shane retorted. "I take it you two are anal auctioneers."

"Ooh, homophobia," Phillip shot back. "Whatever will I do? I'm so crushed."

"I don't know," Austin said with a small smirk. “‘Anal auctioneers’ is sorta funny."

Shane watched the two break off into their own little world, as if there weren't a million zombies outside waiting to rip them apart. The two men didn't look overtly effeminate; actually, it was the opposite. Especially Austin—Shane wondered if, were he in a healthy state, he might be able to take the man down. He often compared other men to himself, asking himself if each of them were as mucha “real man” as he—or at least as far as what he knew a "real man" to be.

"Look, Rick," Austin began.

"My name isn't, fucking,  _RICK!"_ Shane screamed, frustrated. How can two people, who have never laid eyes on Rick, bring him up so much? "My name is Shane."

"Fair enough, Shane," Austin replied. "You can walk your ass outside and try your best out there. I will tell you, because of that infection, the fact you have been in a coma for two days, and haven't eaten in God knows how long, I recommendas your attending physician that you at least give it a day. Then you can go wherever the hell you like."

Phillip dug into his pocket, removed a Snickers, and quickly unwrapped the snack before taking a hearty bite. Then, with false, mocking innocence, he asked, "Wanna bite, or do you want to leave?"

Shane weighed his options, or lack thereof. He was too banged up to go out and face the dead. Though he knew he shouldn’t trust a soul, he decided to just this once relax his Don't-Trust-Anyone policy. These two had saved his life for no reason;how bad could they be?

With a defeated shrug, Shane replied, "Give me a bite of that fucking thing."

 

 


	4. "Warrior"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane is revived by a new group of Survivors. But unlike Rick and his people, they have gear.
> 
> “For you two to be Special Forces, you two look more like the Special Olympics.” - Shane, "Warrior"
> 
> Shane placed his hand on his hip, agitated that this queer had the gall to even question anyone’s manhood, let alone his. “Do you have any idea who you are talkin’ to?” Shane’s eyes darken by the shadow of his brow, his face burning with fury. “You think cause you sashay around her with your candy-ass GI uniform, hiding in some tank. You think you really know what’s going on out there?” - Shane, "Warrior"
> 
> “Someone stabbed and shot him that night. Now I don’t know why but I do know someone wanted him dead and came very close to making that happen. So he may be a warrior, but not all warriors are good warriors.” -Austin, "Warrior"

#Shane

Part 3

 _When you are hungry, almost anything tastes like five-star cuisine,_ Shane thought as he ate two cans of ravioli, peas, and canned carrots.

The fact that he had a big appetite was a good thing as far as Austin was concerned. Austin took Shane's vitals—his temperature was high, but it was to be expected. All his other vitals were more or less normal, and Austin was surprised by how fast Shane was healing, considering his injuries. "You're lucky to be alive."

 _Story of my life_ , thought Shane. He could recall countless timesother people hadgiven him that exact line. "Thanks to you, doc," Shane confessed. "Sorry for being a bit of an asshole earlier."

"You're still an Asshole, Shane," Austin replied. "But in this world, who isn't? You should really be thanking Phillip though; he was the one who found you."

"I will. Is he making rounds again?"

"He does that a lot." Austin used his stethoscope to hear Shane's lungs, and the coldness of the metal made Shane shiver. "Phillip is going to be the last man standing."

Shane's right eyebrow arched with curiosity. "What do you mean by that?"

"Simple," Austin began. "Phillip really hates those things, the dead. He has a deep, seething hate for them. Have you ever watched him fight them? His eyes light up, like a kid in friggin candy store. He won't let them take him.And that, my friend, is why he will be still around even when both you and I are trying to eat each other's brains."  
Austin finished the check up as Phillip entered the room, somewhat bloodied from a battle. Walker blood smeared his pants and his boots. Phillip could feel all eyes on him as he ate a peach he had found on a tree outside.

"I ran into a rotter," Phillip said, mouth still full of fruit.

"Did you kill it or did you fuck it?" Shane asked, letting out a smug, scoffing laugh.Phillip frowned at Shane's poor humor, but Shane paid no mind to Phillips sensitivity.

Shane stood and walked over to a large, full-length mirror in the bedroom-turned-mock-emergency-room. He noticed that his clothes were different; he was wearing nursing scrubs. "Where are my clothes?"

"They were covered in… everything," answered Austin. "So we tossed them when you got here. We still have your boots; they were ugly, but salvageable."

Shane pulled the turquoise scrub-top off, exposing his chest. He inspected the small, sealed cut on his chest.  _Rick_ , he thought as ire built in his bloodstream.

Shane scanned the room and made two astute observations. One, all the curtains were closed, even though they appeared to be many floors up. And two, where had those two managed to find an IV and antibiotics?"Where am I?"

"Rolling Oaks Senior Retirement Community," Phillip answered. "A multi-level old-folks home with independent living, assisted living, and also skilled nursing and memory care."

"Explains all this old-people stuff… like walkers—I mean, you know, canes. Plus the photos of old people," Shane said, still looking into the mirror, staring holes into his stitching. He shivered. Between all the photos and plastic-covered furniture, Shane could still feel the old bat's spirit in the room.

Phillip smirked. "It looks like Mrs. Opal Louise Parker lived quite the life here. Hell, she even had whiskey in her fridge."

Austin was not enjoying how friendly Phillip was getting with Shane—he knew how Phillip could be with people. Austin had agreed to save Shane's life, but the agreement was that they would turn him loose once he was able to walk. Besides, Phillip and Austin had plans that did not have room for any dead weight.

"Phillip, we should give the man his space; he still needs that shower," interjected Austin, breaking up Shane's and Phillip’s conversation about their precise location. "Shane, the hot water isn't really working, but a lukewarm shower would be better than your current situation. We'll be stationed in room twenty-two, right up the hall and to your right."

Phillip could sense Austin rushing him but was clueless as to why. The two men were trained to never break character and to always support any story either one created. It was a tactic that had kept them both alive. "Sure, I think I'm probably going to catch some z's before we head out."

"We're heading out?" Shane queried. "When?Where are we going?" Shane's voice was elevated with agitation. He could sense they were acting shady, and his years as a cop made him quite the bullshit detector.

"Look, you have a lot of questions. I have a few answers. The first answer is no, you are not a prisoner. You are free to walk out the front door and neither I nor Phillip will touch you. But I promise you, you will be shredded, either by the teeth of those things out there, or by the bullets of the  _people_  out there. Now, you can choose to trust us, or you can go; either way, I promise you, I don't give a rat's ass. But decide now."

Shane was out of words to cough up. They could have left him to die, but they had saved him and nursed him back to life. They deservedShane’s esteem at the very least. It still didn't sit well with him that they were clearly keeping secrets. They all lived in the same shit hole—nothing should be secret in this world.

"We are going to have a conversation," Shane promised, his eyes locked tightly on the titan-like Austin.

"Yes,  _we_  will," Austin replied in his rough baritone. "Phillip, let's give the man some space."

As the two men left the room, Shane watched them closely. Something didn't sit well with him about those two, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. Always the policeman.

Shane noticed his movements were still labored; the left side of his body ached. Thunderstorms of pain reigned terror across his infected wound. He also noticed another crude mess of stitches on the right side of his face,that one courtesy of Carl Grimes. But even with all the scrapes, Shane was just thankful to be alive. He disrobed and entered the bathroom.

 

"What in the hell are you doing?" Austin drilled Phillip. "Why are you being so chatty with him?"

"Jealous?" teased Phillip.

"You think this is a joke?How funny will it be when you tell him we're not taking him?"

Phillip’s smile melted away and eroded into a frown. Austin had rules and they were indeed practical. The first rule was: Save no one. Helping people was great on paper, but not very smart to do in  _this_  world. You never could know if you were saving Gandhi or Hitler, so it was best to stay out of those things.

The second rule was:If forced to interact with other survivors, tell them nothing. The fact that Shane knew that Phillip was dear to Austin and not just a "partner" meant Shane could use that knowledge as a tool for manipulation. That was Austin's fault; he’d noticed that ever since his drinking had increased again, his judgment had been cloudy.

"He could be a good asset," Phillip countered.

"You're joking, right?"

"I'm not.You can tell by looking at himhow he carries himself, even in this weakened state. He's a warrior, Austin. Just like me, just like you."

Austin folded his arms and walked to the shuttered window. He scanned the area, looking for the snipers he knew were out there waiting for them. "Someone stabbed and shot him that night. Now I don't know why, but I do know someone wanted him dead and came very close to making that happen. So he may be a warrior, but not all warriors are good."

Phillip absorbed his lover/teacher's wisdom as he always had. But even when Austin was right, he still sometimes managed to overlook details. That was why they made such an unstoppable team; Phillip could always see what Austin could not. "Then it looks like I need to find out what kind of warrior he is."

 

The shower was cold, not lukewarm—cold. But the smell was almost gone now, thanks to Opal Louise's body wash, scrubbing brush, and tea tree oil shampoo. And even though Shane lacked much hair at the top, the tingle of the oil made him feel a deeper clean.

Shane dried off as best he could before swathing the towel around his waist. As he entered the living room to retrieve the nursing scrubs he had worn earlier, he noticed Phillip holding a bundle of towels and clothing. Shane grimaced. "Now, don't you get any ideas here."

Phillip gave a quick smile before walking up to Shane and extending the bundle of towels and clothing. "I already saw you naked and I wasn't impressed—at all. Hence, I'm bringing you more clothing."

Shane took the bundlewhile his eyes watched Phillip closely;the last man who had tried to "hand" Shane something had also stabbed him.

After Shane had taken the clothes, Phillip headed back out of the room. Before leaving,hetold Shane, "I left your boots by the door and I put something you dropped in the left one. You're probably going to need it."

Shane kept his eyes on Phillip until he left his room. Shane inspected the bundle.In it was a medium, red-and-tan flannel shirt and size thirty-two, dark Levi jeans. He placed the clothes on the bed and retrieved his boots. In the left boot,he discovered his pistol with a full clip. But he noticed something else within the boot: a small note.

_Meet me in 10 minutes, downstairs near the east hall. You'll get your answers._

Shane was unsure of where the east hall was, but he assumed it would be on the opposite side of the unit. It turned out he was right, because that was where he found Phillip peeking through the thin, rectangular window that led into the cafeteria.

Phillip had heard Shane a minute before he’d gotten there, but felt no reason to turn around. He was too busy trying to come up with a strategy.

"Who are you people?" was Shane's first question.

"I'm Lieutenant Phillip Barr-Marco, and my husband is Sergeant Austin Angelo Marco. We are a part of a special extraction, search, and rescue team. We were overrun and now we're like you, just trying to live."

It was a mountain of half-truths that Phillip provided to Shane. But Shane was willing to accept the story.Confident that Phillip wasn't going to share everything right this minute, Shane decided to play along.

"That explains the get-up," replied Shane. The two men were definitely military, he could tell that from their demeanor—especially Austin. "What happened to the rest of your team?"

"What happened to the rest of _your_ people?" countered Phillip. "We survived; they didn't."

Shane didn't know what had happened to his people.As far as he knew, they were all dead. He was sure he had heard shots firing from the farm before he had blacked out… Rick must have gotten everyone killed after trying to begin his massacre with Shane.

"It's just that simple."

But Shane wasn't buying it. The story was being presented to him with a bow, and it sure seemed edible, but Shane wasn't going to just eat those scraps. He knew there was more to know, so he was going to apply pressure on Phillip.

Always the mental gymnast, Phillip redirected, "Who stabbed you? Better question: Why did they stab you?"

The who was easy. Explaining the why wasn't going to be as simple. But Shane had picked up on this game that Phillip was playing.  _I guess he thinks since he has that pansy, Yankee accent, he's just so smart. I'll play along._  Shane knew that Phillip was feeding him half-truths to lower his defenses. So if he wanted to believe his little trick had worked, who was Shane to blow the surprise?

"My best friend, Rick. He shot me first.When he couldn't get it done that way, he stabbed me."

"Your best friend? Why would he do that?"

Shane diverted his eyes from Phillip, and it was the first time Phillip had ever seen Shane break from his intense attitude. He pussyfooted around a second before saying, "I was sleeping with his wife…even got her pregnant."

"Oh."Phillip wasn't too surprised.Shane struck him as the type that would attend a talk show to tell his best friend he was screwing his wife—The southern accent helped conjure these images for Phillip. Unfortunately, Jerry Springer hadn’t been around to solve their problem.

"Why can't we leave?" asked Shane. "Who's watching us?"

Phillip broke eye contact with Shane, turning away from him. "Come on man, tell me what's going on. How can we protect each other if I don't even know what to look for? What's out there, it can't just be walkers; it can't just be the dead. It's people, isn't it?"

 

 

hane happened to be right on all accounts. Between their arsenal of weapons and almost-indestructibleuniforms, Phillip and Austin had almost nothing to worry about, outside of starvation. But even with all their fancy toys, they were still just two men.

"We don't know how many, but they are armed,and possibly even trained ex-military. All we know is that they want to take us out. We exchanged gunfire yesterday morning, and it felt like they were shooting from all directions."

"How many guns y'all got?" quizzed Shane. He wanted to know exactly what kind of disaster he was in.

"That's not the problem," Phillip confessed. "That big gun battle we had yesterday has really brought the uglies. There are about twenty-five of them at the front gate; I fear anymore noise would draweven more to us."

Shane was in a bitch of a situation: The dead on one side, murderous people on the other. No matter how you sliced it, it didn't look good. "Any kind of escape plan? Or did the Special Forces only manage to teach you to get yourselves trapped?"

Phillip had to brain storm quickly, his hazel eyes bouncing around the room as he thought critically to himself. He knew the opposition had sharpshooters scoping the building because any time Phillip or Austin walked outside, bullets would shower upon them. Onehad even grazed Austin's shoulder in the battle the morning before. Whatever they decided, they would need to be very covert.

"What are they after?" Shane drilled further. "Do they want supplies, or do they just want your lives?"

Phillip could say it, but instead he opted to show Shane what this all was about. Hetook Shane to the underground parking,where he and Austin had accessed the building.

Shane couldn't believe the behemoth of a vehicle parked before him. His mouth open, Shane absorbed the sight of a large, black humvee.

"This isn't your mother's hummer," Phillip explained. "This is the PYTHON.With dual engines, solar-energy-integrated, and fitted with miscellaneous weapons…If you want to survive a zombie apocalypse, this is the ride you will need."

"Zombies are in movies; those things out there are real life," Shane replied as he circled the vehicle. "I mean it's big, but so what? It probably needs a shitload of gas just to move it up the street."

"Actually, no; since it's steel, it's very light but very strong. In addition to that, it can take both diesel and regular fuel. And even when all the gas is out, it can still propel itself at fifty miles an hour on solar reserves. It was one of twelve thousand made in Germany, and there isn't another vehicle out there that could measure up to it."

Shane's eyes caught Phillip's gaze from across the hood of the vehicle, "I take it you're out of gas."

"Going fifty miles an hour isn’t fast enough with someone firing an RPG at you."

"They have RPGs?" Shane replied, leaning in with his hand on his hip, agitated by hearing even more bad news. "For you two to be Special Forces, this looks more like the Special Olympics."

"Sorry I couldn't come up with a plan; I was too busy saving your ungrateful ass."

"To get trapped in a fucking nursing home," Shane said with a chuckle. He figured he would need to be solution-oriented. "How many are out there? Estimate?"

Phillip leaned over the hood to get a closer look at Shane. "I don't know. I think there are at least twenty, but onlyfive that you need to worry about. I don't know their names.Usually I havea whole profile, but I didn't get that luxury this time.

Shane caught that.  _What do you mean?You get a profile of what? Your targets? Search and rescue, my ass._  Shane didn't want to address that—not right now—but he would revisit this in the future. "When did they start following you?"

"I first noticed them about two hours after we found you."

"Did they see me?"

"No."

Shane stepped forward in an intimidating fashion and said in a low growl, "Did… they… see… me?"

Phillip was far from a coward and stepped forward. "Shane, don't you get any ideas. I could put two bullets in you before you could throw one punch. No. No one saw you. You were stuffed in the car, bleeding to death, remember?"

Shane pulled his body away, removing the nonverbal threat that was his posture. "Good, then I got an idea. Do you got another one of those uniforms?"

"Why?"

"Because you and me are going to lure them out. Once they come out shooting, Austin is going to take them out from the roof. You do have a sniper rifle, right?"

"We have a Barrett M82.But what's your plan—in it's entirety?"

"I'm a going to dress up like Austin; from afar they could mistake me for him. I'm not strong enough to work the sniper rifle and I got a suspicion that Austin is a sufficientshot."

"You would be right," Phillip answered. "But what's stopping them from just shooting us and then catching him on the roof?"

"If they just wanted to take you, they would have stormed or fire-bombed this place hours ago. They want to make a deal.But we should be prepared if this goes left."

Phillip folded his arms and thought about Shane's plan. It wasn't awful, but it wasn't exactly his favorite. "I see where you're going, but when do you plan to do this?"

"We can do it right now, while we still got sunlight."

"Nah," Phillip dismissed. "We’ll do this at dusk. It’ll ensure that they won't be able to see your face, and we have the night covering us."

"And how are we supposed to see?"

"We have gear." Phillip took a second to examine this situation in a deeper context. Sure, the plan could work, but it would require everyone to be flawless. And Shane hadn't yet proven that he couldbe anything but a liability with a short fuse.

"How do I know when those bullets start flying you can even hold your own?" Shane's right eyebrow rose as Phillip asked this. "So far the only thing I've seen you do is bleed a lot. For this plan you cooked up to work, you would have to… deliver. Can you do that?"

Shane placed his hand on his hip, annoyed that this queer had the gall to question _anyone's_ manhood, let alone his. "Do you have any idea who you are talkin' to?" Shane's eyes darkened by the shadow of his brow, his face burning with fury. "You think cause you sashay around here with your candy-ass GI uniform, hiding in some tank—You think you really know what's going on out there?"

A small smirk gathered at the corner of Phillip's mouth as he witnessed Shane's implosion. He wanted to push Shane, to see where his buttons were hidden. The first thing he’d noticed about Shane was that he was mostly egooriented. But his confidence was too high for it all to be false. There must be something behind all his boasting,and it was time to test it.

"You look at me and think, because I'm not all bruised and battered like you, that I haven't gotten my hands dirty?"

Phillip turned away from Shane; he wasn’t worth the eye contact. "I'm just better at this than you, apparently."

"Maybe luckier," Shane shot back. He spat another huge glob of saliva to the ground. "You got a tank to hide in, remember? Imagine if you were out there without it."

Now Shane was starting to piss Phillip off. "You talk a lot of shit for a person who owes me a favor. And right now, you’re going to show me if you were worth the trouble. See, you have a plan; it's not a bad one, it's just… incomplete. But you are also injured and for this to work, I'm going to need to see you in action."

Shane was curious now. "Action? Against what?"

Phillip closed his eyes.He remembered again what he’dseen when he looked through the thin glass window dividing the Unit from the Cafeteria. He had counted a total of five walkers in the dining area; if Shane could clear the cafeteria with no assistance, they may actually have a viable plan.

Shane was totally fine with the idea. He felt rusty anyway, and thought that popping a few walker-heads would cheer him up. Shane was cock and locked.

But Phillip didn't like the idea for two reasons: First, there would be no reward for shooting fish in a barrel. And more importantly, the gunshots would wake Austin up. Austin was napping but was sober as a catholic nun, so enough noise would bring him to his feet in moments.

Five walkers would not exactly be a small feat, especially with Shane’s injury. His confidence didn't wane, however, and he armed himself with a large, black machete. It was loaned to him by Phillip, who would be entering the cafeteria with him, so thateven in the unlikely event that things got out of control, Phillip could provide back up. But the whole point of this exercise was to prove that Shane was ready.

And Shane was always ready.

Around his waist were two large bowie knives, sharpas razors. Phillip wasn’t really planning on getting dirty himself, but he could play defense if things got sticky—Though unfortunately, offense was all Phillip liked to play. "This door is unlocked, and if the rotters weren't so fucktarded they would just open it. So I will open the door and you will enter first; I’ll come in right behind you. After you tend to the elderly, we can see if there is anything left to eat. I suspect there will be."

Shane appreciatedthat this wasn’t just a useless exercise. Plus he was hungry again; hopefully they could find some canned meats. No way a few walkers were keeping him away from beef stew.

Phillip’s hand was on the doorknob, waiting for the signal.Shane gave a nod and the door flew open.

Shane swiftly entered the large cafeteria.The tables were littered with rotted trays and the floor was littered with rotted bodies. In the distance, three walkers were hiding in the shadows. With one mighty swing of Shane's blade, he bisected two of the walkers’ heads. He then kicked the third walker in the chest, knocking it to the floor. With another swing, he embedded the blade in its skull.

Shane knew that at very least, there were two more. He didn't have a flashlight, so he had to rely solely on his ears. He slowed down his breathing and listened. He could hear steps—uncoordinated, dragging steps.  _It's on your left_ , he thought, then beheaded the walker. But before he could enjoy his victory,another walker began gnawing at his ankle, whichwas luckily covered by his thick, leather boot. He dropped his blade on the brain of the walker, ending the creature,and ending the test as well.

"Impressive," Phillip congratulated him. "I mean, especially after all that blood loss. You really know how to take care of things, Mr. Shane…" It dawned on Phillip that he didn't know Shane's last name, even though he had revealed hisand his husband's names and ranks. Phillip realized suddenly how much he was breaking the rules; he would need to be careful in the future.

"Officer Shane Walsh, King County." Shane took a load off, laying himself against the wall. He had popped his stitches. He knew at some point he would need to tell Phillip, but right now wouldn't be it. "Let's see what they got."

It was mostly perishables, unfortunately. There was a lot of Ensure and Gatorade for the seniors who’d had electrolyte issues. The kitchen did have lots of canned goods though, mostly meatless soups. Shane was rightfully pissed, though he did luck out on potato flakes. And he did at least appreciate small victories.

"You guys must be running sorta low," Shane implied, stuffing the large, black duffel bag that Phillip had brought for the loot.

"Not even," Phillip replied. He smelled a fox in his hen house. Shane wasn't worried about whether they could keep themselves fed; he just wanted to know what their supplies levels were. Next he would want to know where they kept everything. Phillip wasn't entirely convinced by Shane yet. He still had much to prove. "Doing things like this guarantees that we’ll always have food. You don't go grocery shopping after you’vecompletely emptied your fridge."

The pickings weren't exactly bountiful, but they were something. "People used to just leave their parents in places like this."

"Good a place as any," Phillip argued. "Apparently they had horseback riding and wine tasting; people lived good lives in places like this."

Shane scoffed at that notion. "You're grandma is supposed to die just like everyone else's, in her bed, cursing you out."

Shane thought about the limited food they had found in the kitchen. Neither of them had located the pantry. Shane picked up the machete again. "I'm going to go find the pantry."

"They most likely cleared as much of the food as they could, and we're most likely not the first residents to stop by since the fall. We got what we got, now let's just get out of here. We should probably talk to Austin about your plan."

"Well, you go 'head," Shane said, not even turning his body to acknowledge Phillip's protest. "I'll catch up in a few." Shane headed behind the counter, deeper into the kitchen. Phillip refused to follow this time; it would be the second part of the test.

 _Big places like this always have huge pantries_ , thought Shane. Even if other survivors had come across this property, they hadn’t gotten this far. The walkers he’d killed were all elderly, some of them in nursing gowns. He rummaged until he found it—Bingo! The pantry door was hidden behind boxes. The must havehad a delivery that day.

From a simple delivery day to the day the dead took over the world… Shane remembered that day as all survivors remembered that day. Except Rick, who had gotten to sleep through it. Shane banished the thought of Rick from his head and opened the pantry door.

The cafeteria was lit by the midday sun; the glass ceilings had once exposed the sky to the residents that had eaten in the once-beautiful dining room. Now, it was a tomb. Phillip waited for Shane to return; he could hear Shane kicking over boxes and causing an overall ruckus. He could tell it wasn't walkers because of the occasional "Son of a bitch!" exclamations by Shane during his search.

Phillip could hear the ringing of chains and he quickly retrieved one of his bowie knives. There were double doors on each side of the cafeteria, and the doors toPhillip’s right began to rock open. In his peripheral vision, Phillip could seefingers slip through the sliver of space between the doors, held together only by a thin chain.

This place had been compromised a long time ago, just as Phillip thought. "Shane, we gotta go!"

When Shane opened the door to the pantry,six walkers poured out of it. Shane slipped on the discarded boxes, but quickly dodged the descending walkers. He managed to escape their grips, but lost his machete in the process.He darted towards the cafeteria, where there would be enough light to actually combat the walkers.

"Shane!" He heard Phillip call out his name as the six walkers chased behind him. Shane removed his weapon and began firing. No point in being shy now. One bullet connected with a brain, and another with a shoulder.

Phillip put his knife away,then grabbed one of his Berettas and began to fire as well.

A that point the chain gave way; the weight of the twenty-six walkers was too much for it, and they poured into the room.

 

 

 


	5. "At Dusk"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane, Phillip, and Austin attempt escape but "Rick" is causing Shane more grief.

#Shane

Part 4

 

The walkers poured into the room once the chain had snapped from thepressure they had applied to the door. A gear clicked in Phillip’s brain, and without a second thought he began to fire. With both Berettas in hand, he fired with a precision that wowed Shane.

Shane, who’d had gun training since the age of twelve, had never before seen anything quite like this. Berettas were naturally hard to fire one-handed, due to their force. And compoundingthe challenge of the weapon was Phillip’s ridiculously accurate headshot ratio. For Phillip to fire two Berettas, simultaneously, with no issue, and still manage to hit his target was astonishing.

Shane stopped firing his weapon because there were too many walkers rushing towards them. He quickly grabbed the long cafeteria table.

"Do you plan on helping?!" chastised Phillip.

" _I am_!" Shane shot back, nastily. As Shane attempted to effectively position the table,a walker attempted to strike him.But the limber Shane managed to deliver a powerful kick, forcing the walker backwards.

The table divided the walkers from Shane, Phillip, and the bag of goodies they had stolen from the kitchen. The walkers began to pile against the table as more and more entered the room. Luckily they were uncoordinated, and were all but tramplingoneanother. Thatwas the only reason both Shane and Phillip were still alive.

"Shane, the door," Phillip called out, backing away from the line but continuing his fire.

Shane grabbed the black duffel bag and headed for the door. Upon reachingit, he collidedwith it, hard. He had expectedthe doorto open, but it was locked. Desperately, he fiddled with the handle, but the door did not budge.

"Son of a fucking _bitch_!" he exclaimed.

Phillip didn't need to look back. He could already tell what had happened. _I will put a bullet in us both before I let these things eat us_ , he thought. But that was plan D—hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.

Shane returned to the line and began to fire over the makeshift barrier. But it was only a matter of time…

The explosion of an assault rifle blared out as bullets began to tear the walkers apart. Shane turned around and there stood Austin, holding open the door.

"Move your asses!" Austin screamed at the two men.

He didn't have to tell Shane twice;he quickly grabbed the bag and exited the cafeteria. Phillip followed, firing once more, just for good measure.

"What in the _fuck_ were you two thinking?" Austin screamed. His voice had the cadence of an enraged math teacher.

"Getting supplies out of the kitchen," Phillip quickly answered, completely falling into the role of teacher's pet.

Austin was somewhat interested in what they had found. Though he wasn't a fan of wasting bullets, he knew that food could always become an issue.He scanned through the bag and wasn't too impressed with the pickings. "This is it?"

"We almost died for that, fuck-face," Shane spoke up. Shane, a bully himself, was not about to be bullied.

"And it would have been a waste," Austin said dismissively. "Seeing as you had my husband with you on this little suicide mission—"

"It was my idea!" Phillip spoke up. "I wanted to see what they had."

Shane and Austin were locked in a dark stare-down. Neither man wanted to break the hold—neither of the two alphas was willing to back down.

"You could have gotten yourself killed, Phillip." Austin eventually replied, still focused on Shane.

Phillip could see the flames licking through Austin's skin. Austin was two seconds from exploding, Phillip could sense it. Phillip saw no value to this cock-off between Austin and Shane, so he decided to redirect Austin's rage to something more constructive. "We didn’t get much in the food department, but I did come up with a way out of here."

Eyes still locked on Shane, Austin said, "I'm listening." His voice was stern and menacing, but that didn't intimidate Shane as he matched Austin’s stare, chest poked out forward, armed with a smug grin on his face.

"At dusk, Shane suits up and we make it look like we're leaving. We know they've been on surveillance since we got here, but I doubt they've seen Shane. Chances are they'll try to engage us, but probably won’t be too aggressive; I doubt the RPGs will be in play. This is all about the PYTHON, so I doubt they'd risk destroying it."

"Hold up," Austin interrupted, finally breaking his stare-down with Shane. "This is all assuming they think this piss-ant is me."

"Piss-ant?" Shane echoed, stepping forward, ready to bare-knuckle with the giant man.

Austin didn’t move a muscle; only small men like Shane neededthe extra posturing. But Austin wasn't above getting in the mud. "You don't want any of me, Sling Blade."

"Can we focus?!" interjected Phillip.He was annoyed that though he was the youngest here, he apparently was also the most mature. "We are waiting for dusk so they won't be able to recognize him. But we’ll have to do this my way, to the tee."

If Phillip could do one thing well, it was definitely creating strategies, and that was evident as he laid out the plan in great detail. Phillip and Shane would serve as a distraction, drawing most of the fire, while Austin served as a sniper. While the opposing group was focused on Shane—with limited visibility—Austin would provide sniper coverage with his night-vision capabilities.

Phillip and Austin had tried this play before on a mission in Turkey, and both men expected similar results. They would also plant assault rifles near the field of engagement.

Phillip had a "big surprise" in store,and once it was launched, he expected to get a huge fire battle. With all that noise, he anticipated it would agitate the near-sixty walkers that had piled up at the front gate of the large estate.

"Once those things get agitated, that gate is coming down," Phillip hypothesized.

 

 

Shane wasn't yet at one-hundred percent; his body still ached from the stab wound, courtesy of Rick Grimes. But one thing Shane always loved with intensity was the challenge of battle. Even when he used to sit next to Rick in that squad car, Shane had had a lust for violence. Oftentimes, Rick had needed to reign in his unbridled partner.

Apart of Shane burned with excitement and anticipation for this plan. Sure, he could die—but after the farm, his fear of death had diminished. Besides, Shane knew that if and when he really did die, he would go out shooting.

Phillip and Shane met at the PYTHON. Shane was surprised by the large, black duffel bag that hung from Phillip’s shoulders. The bag made a heavy thud, kicking up dust and sand as it fell to the floor.

"There's your uniform."

"Why does it sound like there’s a baby elephant in there?" Shane inspected the bag more closely. He opened it and saw an intricate uniform, noticingit was actually a dark navy color, and not black. "What is this exactly?"

"Off the record: It's a double-layer combat uniform. The first layer is form-fitting; it moves seamlessly with your body. Interestingly enough, the bodysuit is made offiber-reinforced plastic, similar to your favorite Chevy. Now, I'm not too sure about all the science that goes into it, but the gist of it is: you’re stab-proof. If you’d had one of these on that night, you would have felt a nasty poke; it may havebrokenthe skin, but it never would have penetrated.

"The second part of the uniform is a somewhat-standard, Kevlar jumper; it looks like a flight-suit to me. It's plated on the knees, elbows, and also the chest. Between the unitard and the jumper, you’re basically bite-proof."

Shane's eyes immediately caught Phillip's. "What do you mean, 'bite-proof'? You mean to tell me those things can't bite through this get-up?"

"I mean, it still hurts like hell, but the human bite—dead or alive—cannot yield enough force to penetrate the suit. Your face will still be exposed however, and honestly, we've never tested exactly how durable these suits are. They weren’t exactly designed for this kind of warfare."

"So how do you know it can take a bite?"

"I was bitten on the arm; it left a mark because it had enough pressure to cause a wound,but there was no fluid exchange. It hurt like the dickens but I survived, intact."

Shane scoffed, "So you mean to tell me you have a tank _and_ a batman suit? Un-fucking-believable."

"Jealous?"

"Not if I get to keep one." Shane checked the elasticity of the suit and found it remarkable how thick the dark fabric was, as he traced his fingers along the stitching. "Whose suit is this?"

"Mine. I figured you were closer to five-nine,one-seventy than six-three,two-twenty. It is designed for my specific body-type though, so it may be snug in certain areas and loose in others. Get suited up; we roll out at seventeen-forty-five."

Shane quickly began to disrobe, but then stopped himself, catching Phillip's gaze. "Don't you go getting any ideas."

"Yeah, ew. Look here, sweetheart.You were probably hot shit when you peaked in high school, but it's not the nineties anymore. Get dressed. You've got five minutes."

Shane was only halfway kidding with his comment, but he learned from that little exchange that Phillip wasn’t afraid to go for the jugular. In many ways, Shane did suffer from arrested development;he was trapped in a perpetual seventeen-year-old-state, andsometimes still felt like the raging, quarterback asshole who bulliedanyone who didn't fall in line.

But in this scenario,Shane wasn't the one running the show. Even though it was originally Shane's plan, Phillip had hijacked it and added additional layers. Shane was impressed by how intrepid Phillip was and how quickly he could adjust and contort to any situation. _If this plan goes just right_ , Shane thought for a second, _what happens once it's all over_?

As Shane slid the form-fitting suit over his body, he called out to Phillip, "What happens after we're clear? Where we goin’?"

"Ideally, back to the eighty-five, heading towards Richmond," shouted Phillip from the adjoining room. Phillip was making sure he had all the weapons he would need on his person.

"Richmond, Virginia? What's there?"

Phillip returned to the room, holding a black motorcycle helmet. "Family. We'll talk more about it once we get the hell out of here." Phillip noticed Shane was struggling with the uniform; he couldn't resistteaseing him. "They’re not farmer overalls—you have to roll it up, one leg at a time."

"Holy Mother of Christ," whined Shane. "How do you wear this thing?"

"Just imagine how much fun it will be when you have to take a number-two. Come on, let me help you."

As Phillip helped Shane zip up the snug-fitting combat uniform, Shane quizzed Phillip for more details. "You know anything specific about these guys?"

"Well, the fact that they even know what the PYTHON is leads me to believe, at the very least, that they're high-level military. They had RPGs, so to be quite honest, they could just be local survivors who managed to get lucky with military supplies.”

"And now they want your ride."

"Don't know their names, so I gave them nicknames. Asshole Number One is a white male, thirty-five to forty, with dark hair and a leaner build. He clearly has extensive military experience. He was the one leading the convoy that ran us off the road. I take it he's the leader."

"He just ran you off the road?" Shane was suspicious of Phillip and Austin, even if they did save him. After what had happened with Rick and Lori—hell, even Carl had betrayed him—Shane knew that if a story sounded too convenient, it most likely was.

"Asshole Number One is backed up by Assholes Number Two and Number Three; they're both white males with dark hair, and Number Three has a full goatee.” Phillip sensed Shane's suspicion, but now wasn't the time to be divisive. For this farfetched strategy to be successful, he needed a united front. “It was all happening so fast, and I was driving; Austin was providing cover fire.”

 _Holy shit!_ thought Shane. They were literally engaging in high-speed shootouts with assault rifles. In all Shane's years as an officer, he had never even observed such a thing. A shootout is one thing, but adding M16s and a ninety-mile-per-hour speed changed things dramatically. "And you saw the RPG?"

"Someone fired it—rather poorly might I add—in our direction. We were being chased by three cars, so it was hard to really decipher who fired the RPG, but it wasn't anyone in the front. No other rockets were fired after the one. It could be because they don't have any more, or that they didn't want to risk the vehicle."

"So I doubt they'll be in play this time," Shane concluded. "What's the helmet for?"

"It's like I told you: the suit protects you from bites to your body, but your face is still exposed." Phillip looked at his silver watch and realized they only had moments left. "It's time. Get in position. That black little earpiece thing connected to your suit is a radio; it patches you into me and Austin. All three of us will hear the conversation."

Shane held the black earpiece in his hand for a moment and reflected on how far he had come. From the sheriff's department, to the camp, to the farm, to here.He let out a small scoff, then plugged the earpiece into the suit and placed it in his ear.

"Well, let's test this baby out," Jovially and with cockiness, Shane announced over the radio, "This is Sherriff's Deputy Shane Walsh, making sure our line is clear and smooth as Heather Locklear's legs. Now can you tell me one thing: Do you copy?"

 

 

 

Phillip may not have known it, but Asshole Number One did have a name and it was Donald. Donald was the leader of his group of fifteen people. Donald had tracked the PYTHON to this location and now he had it cornered. Donald didn't know who Phillip and Austin were,though he guessed thatthey were military of high authority. Donald, an OIF Sergeant, had ultimately gone into the world of military contracts, and that's how he had been introduced to the power of the PYTHON.

Donald had five children inhis group, and they were the group's highest liability. But if they had a secured vehicle to keep the kids in, hewould be able to focus on other pressing issues. Donald justified his actions:He had children to care for, and those two men just had each other. He didn't want to have to end anyone's life, but he would do so to protect his people.

" _Donald_!" Asshole Number Two, or Chuck, called out. "They're on the move!"

"Good, get Alexis and Thomas, and have Margo and James meet us on the other side of the field. Remember, we’re taking out the front tire but keeping any structural damage to a minimum. It will be useless if it's blown up. What are they doing?"

"It looks like they're packing up—trying to get out of here, I guess," replied Chuck.

"Isn't the main gate still covered with Lame Brains? How the hell do they plan on getting past that?"

 

Shane was nervous and for good reason. For all intents and purposes, he was waiting for someone to shoot him. Well, to shoot _at_ him. Armed with a cigarette and his small pistol, he waited for Phillip to pull into the long driving path that led to the main entrance. This path wrapped around the large, brick-and-sandstone building, leading into the forest where the opposing group was waiting to attack.

"You see anybody on that scope?" Shane asked Austin over the radio.

"Two so far; they're about to make their move. Phillip, how are you handling your situation?"

"Oh I'm fine," Phillip said, his words drenched in sarcasm. "I'm just doing fucking stupendous. Hey, get off of me!"

"Hey, show some restraint down there," Austin chastised. "This was your plan, remember?"

"Yeah, but I'm the one stuck with the HungryHungry Hippos, so I’m sorry if I'm not over the moon about this. Has Asshole Number One been spotted?"

Austin performed a scan with his binoculars, searching frantically for Donald. "Spotted, in the northeast. He's armed with a… revolver."

 _Rick?_ Shane thought. It couldn't be Rick, could it? No way;Rick didn't have the balls to pull a move like this. But if it wasRick, Shane may just get his chance to settle their score.

"Alright, Phillip, move out."

Austin didn't have to tell him twice. Phillip was getting sick of his backseat drivers anyway, so the faster they could get this going, the better off they would be. As Phillip pulled into the area of engagement, he could see Shane standing in the field, holding the large, black duffel bag. Phillip parked the vehicle and quickly exited, hoping not to ruin his surprise.

Phillip was wearing his helmet when he exited the vehicle, and before he could take it off hefelt a large bang collide with it. Following that bang, he heard a hiss as smoke poured from a small can that was thrown by the opposing team.

"Tear gas!" screamed Shane. It looked like it had started. Shane quickly fired his pistol into the darkness, not really expecting to hit anyone. But there was no return fire.

"What's going on down there?!" Austin's voice was frantic and hostile. "Phillip?! Are you ok?!"

Phillip removed his helmet and desperately inhaled the cool air. Shane too was struggling with his vision as his nostrils filled with mucus.

" _Hands up_!" Donald announced as his armed team descended on Shane and Phillip. Both men dropped their weapons. Shane discarded his pistol, but Phillip was a little more careful.

"You sure if I reach for my weapon in an attempt to surrender, you won't just shoot me in the face?" Phillip asked.

Donald aimed his revolver at Phillip’s head, "Not if you don't give me a reason. Drop your weapon nice and easy and no one will have to die."

 _He can't be serious_ , thought Phillip. But he complied, releasing both the bowie knives and Berettason his waist. "Now what? You execute us?"

Shane's eyebrow rose in confusion. _Is he trying to piss them off?_ Shane observed the interaction even closer. So far things were going more or less according to the plan, and now Phillip was tempting the fates?

"Like I said: No one needs to die." Donald signaled for the other members to secure Shane and Phillip. Asshole Number Two grabbed Shane and placed a pistol to his kidney, and Asshole Number Threemade a similar move on Phillip. Donald, however, wanted to inspect the PYTHON closer.Even though the windows were so opaque he couldn’t see inside, Donald knew it contained an artillery. On the driver's side, there was a numerical panel…

"What's the code?" Donald asked, not really directing it to Phillip nor Shane, but still expecting an answer.

"You don't want the code, buddy." Phillip chimed in.

Annoyed, Donald pointed his gun in an intimidating fashion. "What's the code?"

"It's my birth date," Phillip answered, as if it were common knowledge. "Twelve, Thirteen,Nineteen-Eighty-Six."

"See, that wasn't so hard," Asshole Number Three said to Phillip, and Phillip noticed that the man’s breath smelled like microwaved diarrhea.

Asshole Number One put in the code, and just as Phillip had hoped,all five of the doors to the vehicle opened. As they did, six walkers escaped the vehicle. _Told ya, you really didn't want that code_.

Two of the walkers descended upon Donald,and he went down fighting.

Shane and Phillip took advantage of the distraction; Shane delivered a thunderous lefthook to Asshole Number Two before retrieving his pocket knife and driving it in the man’s throat. Phillip used a nasty head-butt that shattered Asshole Number Three’s nose. Before the man could respond, Phillip pivoted and cracked his opponent's neck with speed and ease.

"Make a run for it!" Shane announced as both men headed towards the building. Bullets began to shower the field as the opposing team provided their leader cover fire. Both Shane and Phillip dove over a station wagon parked near the field, then stored their weapons and night-vision gear there.

The two men grabbed their assault rifles and began to return fire. Austin provided excellent sniper services, clearing most of the belligerents in the forest as Shane and Phillip made quick work of the remaining members who had actually made it to the field.

Shane could hear the rattling of the main gate as walkers began to overload it. It was moments from collapsing. Phillip could tell that it was all clear,and radioed Austin before moving back towards the vehicle. "Austin, get your ass down here. Those things have almost breached the gate."

"Copy, I'm coming back to you. Be near or in the vehicle."

"I hear you, Austin." As Phillip collected the discarded weapons he noticed that Donald was still alive and crawling towards his revolver.

Phillip had no time for any last-minute attempt at vengeance.He kicked the revolver away from Donald's grip. "No, no, there will be none of that. Hasn't there been enough killing for one day?" Phillip took a good look at Donald, his face bitten, as was his shoulder and arm. From the blood loss coupled with the virus, his death was imminent. "For what it's worth, I don't take pleasure in any of this."

Donald lay there, shivering from his wounds.He could feel himself slipping into death. "We just needed a place for the children. We were fine out here, but they needed to be safe." He could barely croak out that sentence;it was getting harder and harder for his blood to absorb oxygen.

"There are no bad guys here," Phillip declared. "Just survivors. Did I kill any of your family today?"

"No," croaked Donald. "They're at the camp. Are you military?"

"Sorta. I started out in the Air Force and Austin started off as a Marine. Now we're something more."

"You don't 'start off’ a Marine; you either are one or you're not."

"I take it you’re a Leatherneck."

"Operation Iraqi Freedom, Fallujah."

"You men fought brave, just like tonight. Look what this world has done; it's turned people like you and me against each other. We both want the same thing:We want to live. I won't leave you to become like them, I think you're better than that." And with his recently-retrieved Beretta, Phillip fired a bullet into Donald's brain. "Oorah."

Shane watched this interaction from afar. He didn't know what to make of it—it was more than what he would do.If it were up to Shane, he would have collected their guns and already been gone into the night. But Phillip felt a need to connect in this fashion with a stranger, and an enemy at that. Shane wasn't sure if this made Phillip weaker or stronger.

Seconds later, Phillip and Shane heard a crash as the main gate finally gave way and seventy walkers poured into the field of engagement. Austin appeared, holding a large bag filled with weapons and gear. He was horrified by the large army of undead heading their way,but he didn't have time for the luxury of gawking at them.

"We gotta go, now!" Shane announced before climbing into the PYTHON.

"We’ve got to get past them first," Austin reminded. "Any suggestions?"

"Yeah, just one." Phillip declared. "Kill them all."

 

 


	6. "Raise Your Gun!"

#Shane

Part 5

"Raise Your Gun!"

 

**_45 Minutes earlier_ **

Shane was dressed in the combat uniform and just like Phillip described, it wasn’t the best fit. But if it kept him alive, Shane would wear it until this entire “zombie apocalypse” mess was sorted out. Shane headed back to the room where he first woke up but he was greeted by a non-human welcoming committee.

To describe this creature as a “Big Dog” would be an understatement. The large animal looked like a cocoa colored, muscle-ripped stallion and less like a canine. Shane was always a dog lover, especially big dogs, but he was completely unsure the breed. Shane was nervous and rightfully so; Shane was stuck in a hall with what looked to be an escaped hell hound.

“Hey, nice boy,” Shane said in a somewhat shaky voice, slowly backing away from the animal. “That-a-boy, you are a _boy_ , right?”

The large dog let out a loud aggressive bark before darting after Shane. “Oh fuck!” Shane screamed before running in the frantically in the opposite direction.

“Ehi, fermarlo!” Austin called out and the dog quickly stopped in mid step. “Bravo, Buster, bravo.” Buster ran to his master and dove his snout into his master’s hand lovingly. Shane all but pissed his uniform, he panted heavily from his desperate attempt at escape.

Austin pats the dog roughly and the animal responded gaily, “He is by all intents and purposes our secret weapon. He is an Italian Molosso or commonly known as the Neapolitan mastiff. That explains his enormous size.  Those dogs are known for not only being protective of family but also extremely intelligent, _independent_ thinkers. He is really good at finding drugs.”

“A police dog?”

Austin scuffed at that notion. “Shane, don’t be silly. No department in America could get a dog this talented. He’s actually a family pet.”

  
“And you just happen to still have him?” Shane asked, his voice revealed his suspicion.

“We were having a family vacation in Florida; Miami was beautiful until people started eating each other. Where did things start for you, Shane?” Austin asked, redirecting the focus back to Shane.

Shane played along, “Kings County, it’s twenty miles outside of Atlanta. You mean to tell me you drove from the bottom of Florida all the way to rural Georgia? What’s that, about six hundred and twenty miles? You mean to tell me you guys drove that far?” Shane wasn’t buying it, even with an impressive vehicle and a bite-proof costume there is no way they drove that stretch.

Austin didn’t really care one way or another, what the hell did Shane know? “You can believe what you want.”

“How did you drive through that, aren’t the roads packed?”

“Of course, but you just got to be inventive,” Austin was being dismissive. He didn’t care to give Shane the play by play, he wouldn’t be able to follow or comprehend anyway. “This plan, it reeks of unprofessionalism, it’s not exactly Phillip style. But you’re going to have to be sharp for this to work.”

“Save the pep speech, Sergeant Yank” dismissed Shane. “You just keep the crew off our ass.”

Austin squatted down and embraced his large pet even closer, completely ignoring Shane’s rudeness. Shane was no threat, no matter how hard he tried to appear menacing. “What do you make of this? This world, what’s happening, what do you think it is?”

Thoughts of Jenner and the CDC emerged but Shane quickly banished those thoughts. “I don’t know--- a disease I guess.”

“Really?” his curiosity peaked and the physician in him was always ready for a medical debate. “It would make sense, it appears that whatever this is spread by their bite.”

“There’s more to it than that, have you ever watched a person turn?”

Austin shrugged, “I never had to.”

“Well there’s fever, it burns you out first, and then you come back. But it ain’t you, you come back one of them.”

Austin pondered if it’s the bite itself or simply the exchange of bodily fluids would be the cause of the infection. When they got back to the base he would begin clinical trials, assuming the Doctors at ATLAS had not started that already. “So we have feral dead and apparently feral living---teeth or bullets. Those are the options we have these days. Either be devoured by zombies or be shot by humans, what a time to be alive.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**_NOW_ **

 

 _Kill them all,_ thought Shane. _That’s not a plan, at all_! “Do you _not_ see that army ahead of us?” Shane was frustrated with the impulsivity of this strategy. “There are about 70 plus undead SOB’s ahead of us. And you want to have a gun fight?”

“That’s what he said, wasn’t it?” Austin retorted. No matter what, Austin had Phillip’s back. If today was the day they both met their makers, they would do it together. They would go out fighting, as well.

“Is Buster still secured?” Phillip asked, his hazel eyes still locked on the uncoordinated wall of zombies approaching him.

“Yes, what’s the play?” replied Austin.

“I work the turret, Shane you back me up with AK fire, and Austin you drive.”

It was a simple plan, except for the whole execution part. Shane needed more details, “So what exactly are we doing here? We just waste a bunch of ammo?”

Phillip thought about how practical his idea was and decided that wasting bullets would be counterproductive. Especially with Shane’s head shot ratio, it would be a total waste. “Alright Shane, you make a valid point. I say we cut a Swath through that group of dead bastards; we make just enough room for Austin to drive through. We keep them off the vehicle as much as possible. We don’t want it to break down and be surrounded.”

The army of the dead were growing closer, “Time’s up! Let’s hustle!” Austin declared. Austin climbed inside of the PYTHON, Shane and Phillip followed suit. Shane quickly reloaded his assault rifle as Phillip tightened his bootlaces. It was about to get messy.

“We have to wait until they come,” Austin began, “once they’re more spread out, then we attack. It’s intermission, fellas.”

Shane scanned the inside of the PYTHON with a closer detail. He noticed that the behemoth of a vehicle looked as if it could possibly sit ten people. The opaque windows made it impossible for human or walkers to see what was going on inside. “And you say this thing is sound proof, too?”

“Yeah, I think only a grenade could make any meaningful noise,” Austin said, buckling himself into his seat. “Now, you have a significant injury Shane, you think you can fire your weapon and keep your balance on top of a moving vehicle?”

“If you can keep this fucker from tipping over ---sure.” Shane locked and loaded his weapon, he was ready. If this vehicle can do what they said it can do than he had a sliver of hope. Phillip however sat quietly; his mind was flooded with multiple strategies. That was his MO; he needed to come up with a backup plan if Shane fell off the vehicle.

Austin kept his eyes on the sea of the dead that now surrounded the vehicle.  Austin noticed that the dead didn’t really engage with the PYTHON; however the fact that they were all deposited in the gated back yard meant that the dead wouldn’t just march on.  Austin saw his path, between a pocket of walkers; he noticed where he could escape.

“Alright, we’re taking off,” Austin stated. “Light ‘em up, fellas!” Austin hit turned the ignition and hit the accelerator. The PYTHON plowed through the dead aggressively, the collision of the vessel and the walkers cause a sickening splat.

Phillip carefully opened the top of the vehicle and released a small ladder. Rung by rung, Phillip climbed until he reached the top of the vehicle. He let out a small gasp when he observed the mosh pit of dead all clamoring at the PYTHON.  Fear began to build in Phillip’s blood; the valiant man could not recall experiencing terror like this before.

“Oh my god,” Phillip said under his breath. Shane climbed up the ladder as well and had a similar reaction. He was surrounded by the dead before but never this many. Shane however did not have the luxury of gawking; he immediately started firing at the sea of undead.

The sound of gun fire snapped Phillip out of his trance; he quickly remembered what he was supposed to be doing. Hidden was the large turret with over 5000 live rounds, Phillip pointed the gun at the group of Zombies building up behind the vessel. Phillip began to shower the dead with a hail of bullets.

Back to back, Shane and Phillip fired at the dead who tried their best to climb to the top of the vehicle.  Shane didn’t notice, but he reopened his stitching and was beginning to bleed out. He didn’t realize that his focus was waning, as was his strength.

He began to suffer from vertigo, his eye sight became blurry, and Shane screamed, “Damn it!”

“What’s the problem, Walsh?” Phillip asked, still firing the turret at the dead. “Would you like to switch?”

“Yeah, I can’t, I’m losing my balance,” confessed Shane.

Phillip complied; he gave Shane a quick course on how to fire the weapon. He would need to squeeze and hold two triggers for a rapid fire. Shane passed Phillip the AK-47, which Phillip verified was still loaded. “Make sure you keep them off our tailpipe. They’re really making it hard for Austin to drive through this.”

Phillip sucked in the moist night air and calmed himself before focusing the weapon. He closes his eyes and counts to five before firing into the crowd. The bullets slammed into the rotting faces of the walkers, Phillip decided he need to get closer. He slides down the windshield, points his weapon at an angle and resumes his gun fire.

Austin was nervous, Phillip was dangerously close to the walkers who were desperately clawing at Phillip since they could actually see him. Both Austin and Shane were out of the walkers’ sight, so Phillip was getting all the attention. “What are you doing, Marco?!” Austin asked over the radio.

“Just keep driving!” chastised Phillip. “You’re distracting me.”

It only takes one minute before they have you. One of the walkers reached Phillips boot and began to drag him from the hood of the PYTHON. With his left foot Phillip delivers a kick to the face of the walker but that only gave an opportunity for another walker to grab his other foot.

 _It’s over,_ thought Phillip as the walkers pulled him closer to his death. But Phillip wouldn’t go without a fight, he desperately grabs onto a groove on the PYTHON’s hood.

“PHILLIP!” Exclaims Austin.  He quickly unsnaps his safety belt and retrieves his semi automatic weapon. But before he could save his husband he notices Shane had already reached the hood of the vehicle and provided back up gunfire. Shane fired bullets into the brains of the walkers who had Phillip in their grip.

Shane grips Phillips arm and pulled him to his feet. “Was this also a part of your plan?” teased Shane.

“Yeah,” lied Phillip. “I was two seconds from getting out of that death grip before _you_ interrupted. “

“Yeah, I bet. You drop your gun, soldier.” Shane hands Phillip the AK-47, “Try to hold on to this.”

The men resumed their assault until Austin was able to tear through the crowd of the undead. The men hooted in celebration as the Brooklyn native drove through the undead and made it back to the main road. They were in the clear.

After making it ten miles from the retirement community the men took a break. Phillip had to pee so he excused himself into the darkness of night.

“Shouldn’t you go with him?” Shane asked, Shane knew the dangers of venturing out into the night alone.

“He’s fine,” Austin declared. Between the suits, the helmet, only a herd and his own stupidity could kill him. “Where is your home? Where are your people?”

“I don’t know,” the officer confessed. “As far as I know they’re probably gone. The walkers, I saw them a herd of them marching towards the farm.”

“Farm?” Austin’s curiosity was peaked. “What farm?”

By this time Phillip had returned to the vehicle. This mild distraction knocked Austin off his line of questioning and he returned to driving. Austin took another swig of his silver flask which Phillip caught from his peripherals.

Shane became somewhat suspicious of Austin sudden interest in Shane’s past. Shane peered out the window and noticed where they were, it was the 85 heading north away from Senoia, Georgia. Shane realized that he was but a few hours away from Hershel’s farm.

 _Speak of the devil,_ he thought. Shane had to check on them. He had to find Lori, in Shane’s mind she was pregnant with his child and he was convinced Rick couldn’t protect her. He couldn’t even kill him. “Hey turn this thing around; we need to get to the farm.”

“And again I ask: _what farm_?” Austin just wanted the information; he had no intentions on going anywhere but his destination.

“Hershel Greene’s farm, it’s only ten miles away, I gotta,” Shane’s voice was distant. He needed to find Lori; there were so many walkers at the farm. One way or another, Shane needed to know if they were all dead. “Come on! It’s only 10 minutes away, the road is clear.”

“Negative,” replied Austin who never broke his gaze on the road. “We are going to continue to head towards Richmond. We’ll probably get some shut eye in about three hours.”

“Bullshit! I just need to see the farm.”

“What’s in it for us?” Phillip finally interjected while he reloaded the AK-47.

“In it for _you_?” Shane echoed, confused by Phillips coldness. Shane was somewhat surprised how icy Phillip was, he expected as much from Austin.

“Yeah, why would we want to visit a farm that was overrun by rotters after we barely survived the old folk’s home? I mean, I’m not really over the moon about another suicide mission. “

“What, are you a pussy?” challenged Shane.

“ _Reverse psychology_?” Phillip was far from impressed, especially since he was a psych major. “Are you serious? Yeah, not interested.”

“Are you telling me you won’t even drive there and check, I had your back! They would have torn you apart if I had not stepped in.” Shane was enraged, he saved Phillip, and now he owed him.

“It looks like we’re even now, don’t it?” Phillip replied. “I saved you, you saved me. But in no way do I plan to march into another hoard of maggot brains to search for people who are most likely dead.”

Shane was incensed but he managed to hold in his rage. But in all fairness, they were right. They didn’t owe Shane anything else so Shane saw that as a sign. “Let me out.”

Phillip caught Shane’s intense gaze, but Shane wasn’t looking at Austin or Phillip, he was staring into the void between the two men. His mind was totally focused on Lori and his unborn baby, he needed to get to them.

“What are you talking about, you’ll die out there,” protested Phillip.

“Are you going to the farm or not?” circled Shane.

Austin sharply hit the break before placing the vehicle in park without looking back at Shane Austin ordered, “Let  him out.”

“What?” Phillip was confused; he wanted to diffuse the situation because the two men were getting elevated.

Austin figured the PYTHON wasn’t big enough for another soul, especially an ungrateful shit like Walsh “You heard me, let the man out. Let him go out there in the middle of the night with an unknown number of undead cannibals. If that’s what he wants, then god damn it---let him.”

Phillip’s mouth was agape; he couldn’t believe that Austin was taking things to this extreme. He could tell Austin was drinking again; he could smell the SKYY on his breath. Phillip could see the potential in Shane and another addition to their team could yield amazing results.

But Austin had had his fill of Shane’s smug attitude; Austin finally turned around and gestured for Shane to leave the vehicle. “Are you deaf, get the fuck out!”

Shane stared Austin down for a moment; he didn’t hesitate due to fear, but through his eyes he wanted to convey his boldness. He wasn’t being thrown out, he was leaving. Shane opens the door and the light of the waning moon barely lit the road. Armed only with a pocket knife and his small pistol Shane was ready to step out into the darkness.

“Shane, wait!” Phillip protested once more.

The deputy turned around catching Austin’s eyes through the rearview but locking onto Phillip’s. Phillip retrieves the AK-47 and extends it to Shane. “The red button on the side of the trigger activates the flashlight.”

Shane reached for the gun collecting it with mild agitation. He looked at Austin then back to Phillip and merely shook his head with dismay before turning away and heading to the farm. He could hear the screech of the tires behind him as the vehicle drove off into the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special Word From The Author:
> 
> I really enjoyed working on this Fanfic. I wanted to also let you know on the official Facebook page for The Walking Dead: Negative, i plan to start posting some of the storyboards for the upcoming motion comic that is based off this fanfiction. Your feedback is always welcome and feel free to reach me on Facebook and Twitter.
> 
> Lastly, what I hope to accomplish with this fanfic is creating a new path for Shane, a clean slate so to speak. But when we get to the "Wolves at the Gate" Arc, when Shane actually makes it to Alexandria, expect to see a "New and Improved" Shane. SPOILER ALERT: Shane will only be accompanied by one person, in other words Phillip or Austin or both will be dead by the time that Arc begins.


	7. #TheVoid Preview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This a preview of the second part of the "Shane Trilogy". Please leave feedback and follow The Walking Dead: Negative Series. There is so much to come.
> 
> Shane barely survived the events of Hershel’s farm before he found himself in the center of another hurricane. Luckily for Shane, he was discovered by two mysterious paramilitary fighters with an arsenal of weaponry and an armored vehicle to hide in. But Shane’s heart is luring him back to the farm. He needs closure before he can finally move on.  
> #TheVoid is the second part of the #Shane Trilogy. It is highly encouraged that new readers check out the 5-Part story entitled #Shane.
> 
> These events are set between the Season 2 Finale and Season 3 Premier.

Chapter 1: "Alone, Again"

“YOU DID THIS TO US! THIS WAS YOU, NOT ME!”

The words sprung Rick up from his far from restful sleep. Luckily, he did not disturb his family, who quietly slept. Carl snuggled warmly to Lori. Rick could see the foggy cloud escape from his mouth as he exhaled heavily. Sweat beads collected on his forehead and slicked down the sides of his face. Damn you, Shane, Rick thought mutely. Rick’s hands felt warm and sticky, as if Shane’s blood still coated his finger tips.

Rick could see Daryl in the corner of his eye keeping watch for the camp. Hershel slept with Maggie and Beth and Carol slept alone but rather close in proximity to Daryl. The fact that the group was out there in the wilderness kept Rick up already and Shane making impromptu visits in his dreams weren’t helping either.

“You still up, babe,” Lori said groggily.

“Can’t really sleep,” Rick said, his voice was distant, and his eye contact was absent. It’s been that way since the farm.

“What are you thinking about?” asked Lori as she freed her arm from under Carl’s head. “What’s bothering you?”

“Shane.” Rick didn’t elaborate; he barely wanted to talk to Lori, let alone about Shane. Rick stood and walked away, disconnecting from his wife rather abruptly.

There was a time Lori used to dream of the day Rick would quarrel with her. Most of the time he would merely cave to her demands. But since Shane’s death, all they did was fight. But Rick’s version of fighting didn’t involve elevated voices. He beat you down with one word sentences and his distance. He made Lori wonder if he even loved her anymore, he wondered that himself.

Lori quickly followed behind her husband but made sure not to disturb a sleeping Carl. “Rick. RICK!” Lori hissed after Rick who finally stopped at the second time she called his name. “We can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” retorted Rick with hostility.

“This! Walking away, pretending…”

“Pretending, what Lori?”

“Pretending we aren’t married and I don’t love you. Pretending that I didn’t feel gutted when I thought you were dead. Pretending---”

“--Pretending you weren’t with him,” Rick swiped back. Daryl’s ear perked, though not one to gossip, Rick and Lori’s arguments were the only thing mildly interesting to watch.

Lori absorbed the blow; besides this is what she wanted. Passion. She wanted passion and fire back in her marriage; and now Rick was going to passionately curse her out. “I know you hate me right now, Rick.”

“Hate you?” Rick retorted. “Everything is about you, isn’t it? When isn’t it about you, Lori?”

The way he said the word “Lori” was patronizing. He wanted her to know how much she made everything about her. How she couldn’t see beyond her dense bubble of selfishness. Rick, though outwardly hostile was still crushed.

“Are we going to do this right here and now? Is this where you’re going to tell me how awful I was. How I betrayed you, how I shit on everything we built? Spare me your pity party, Rick. Look around us; we have bigger issues to worry about.”

She wasn’t wrong, as with most things, Lori could see the bigger picture. But Rick was too sensitive and this betrayal would be too much for him to bear. Of all things that Lori could do and of all the people she could do it with she chose Shane. In his mind it was borderline incest.

But something was bothering Rick even more so than these recent dreams of Shane. Lori’s body language when Rick told her that he killed Shane revealed her true feelings for him. The way she grieved for Shane concerned him. Rick was already somewhat insecure by nature, but after this deceit, his esteem in Lori was nonexistent.

“Tell me something and don’t lie to me,” Rick warned.

“What do you want from me, Rick?” surrendered Lori.

Rick’s eyes tightened along with the roundness of his mouth. “The truth.” The scruff on his face slightly thicken by neglect tickled his face; Rick rubs his mouth and slightly leans into his wife. “I want to know, from your mouth: Did you love him, even for a second?”

“Oh, God, no,” Lori said as if it was a silly notion. “Of course not, Rick. I was alone and horrified, and Shane was all I knew in a world that fell apart. I made a mistake in a moment of weakness. I didn’t plan for it or wish it, it just happened. So no Rick, I never loved Shane.”

Lori was lying, though she never loved Shane, it wasn’t a mistake at all. For many years Shane and Lori had a friendly relationship. Shane being Rick’s oldest friend made him a constant presence at the Grimes’ residence.

Lori and Rick weren’t exactly social butterflies and kept to themselves, especially Lori. Lori found herself in a marriage that she only felt mildly satisfied with. After dropping out of college when she got pregnant with Carl, Lori believed she sacrificed her life to be a mom and wife. With very few friends Lori would often turn to Shane to confide in.

But now he was dead. Lori felt no reason to share with Rick the whole truth. That she and Shane had sex for weeks upon weeks. That she took off her ring because Shane said it was a distraction. She may not have loved Shane but he brought and excitement that Rick never had. He was a dynamic and aggressive lover; the things he would say to Lori would make her feel so sexy. She felt youthful again with Shane.

But Rick saw the other side of Shane, that dark void of hate hidden deep within him. It would seep out at times, Rick could recall a time when Shane unloaded a barrage of punches on a cuffed assailant. Yeah, there was a darkness in him. But Rick also recalled the time his father passed from cancer it was Shane that stayed with him. They cried together while Lori slept in the lobby with Carl. “Then you can never understand why I can’t sleep. Because … I loved Shane and I hurt. And you can’t fix that. It’s just another thing I have to live with.”

Rick walks away from Lori again; Lori begins to follow him but stops herself. He needed his space and she needed to be with Carl.


End file.
